The Talk
by mattsloved1
Summary: John decides it's time he helped Sherlock with his beliefs about sex. So he proposes a question and answer session with his friend. During the course of their discussion, they both learn more than they ever expected. Takes place after 'Belgravia'.


This chapter was written for Verityburns and Scopesmonkey's birthdays. ;)

Much thanks to AGirloftheSouth for her help in this chapter! She was great working on my comma problem and in making sure it all made sense. I do not own, nor do I profit from.

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><p>It was true, John loved the intrigue and running around he did with Sherlock. However, once in a while, just one day out of fifteen, John longed for a quiet and uncomplicated day. Sleeping in until his body woke him up, no work scheduled, milk for his tea, and a flatmate who was in a decent mood. It really wasn't too much to ask for, he reasoned.<p>

The day started out well enough. John had woken to sunshine streaming in his window after a nightmare free sleep. Padding into their living room, John found Sherlock looking through files on their work table.

"Anything interesting?"

No response. Apparently, Sherlock was blocking out everything besides the information he was taking in. John continued on into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil.

After buttering his toast, John took a cup of tea out and left it where he knew it would be found. Finding the newspaper further down, he placed his right hand on Sherlock's shoulder and reached for the sports' section. John knew that once his flatmate was done with the other sections, pen marks would circle articles that interested Sherlock, while other would have acquired strikeout marks exhibiting his disdain.

Sports section in hand, John returned to the kitchen, moved four petri dishes aside and sat down to enjoy his breakfast. Forty minutes later, he placed the paper back where he had found it and headed up the stairs to get ready for the day. John liked to relax, if the morning allowed, but once he was done eating he had to shower and change. He felt simply too lazy if he continued wearing clothes he had slept in the night before. It was certainly not an opinion his flatmate shared.

A glance at their work table showed Sherlock was still focused on the papers in front of him. John was thankful to see the teacup he had left empty and took it into the kitchen to wash at a later time. Deciding to take advantage of the quiet, he pulled out the two medical journals Mike had let him borrow and settled down to read.

As had happened many times in the past, the world outside of 221B melted away. Siblings, co-workers and life itself seemed to disappear and only the two men living within the walls of the old flat existed. Before realising it, John had passed four hours of the day. Knowing it was time for something to eat, he marked his place in the journal.

Since he had gone shopping on his way home from surgery the night before, there was food safely tucked away in their refrigerator. Far away from the decaying body parts of course. After making two sandwiches, one that he placed beside his silent flatmate, John settled back down to read for a bit longer.

Halfway through eating, he suddenly heard Sherlock mutter the word, "Ridiculous".

He paused for a moment, uncertain if the word had been spoken out loud as a means of engaging him in conversation or merely Sherlock thinking out loud as he was known to do at times. Nothing else followed, so John went back to his journal until he next heard the word, "Idiots" hissed. Curious, he glanced up.

"Something interesting I take it?" There was a fifty-fifty chance a response would not be forthcoming.

It seemed Sherlock was ready to interact with another human being because he looked down at where John was seated.

"People are idiots."

After waiting a few seconds for clarification, John decided he would give the conversation a push forward. "Yes, I am aware that people are idiots. Not exactly news when you shared your opinion on the majority of the human race less than two days after I met you. What I'm wondering is why you said that when I asked if there was something interesting in what you've been reading."

"People are idiots when it comes to sex, John," Sherlock complained. "More often than at any other time it would seem. Crimes of passion, such as the one I have just finished reading about, would be unnecessary if people would just direct the brains they were given at birth onto more important things, instead of focusing their minds on such a useless activity."

Sherlock fluidly gestured with his hands as he spoke. Perhaps he believed he could 'conduct' his opinion towards him more easily, John thought as the man continued his rant. "Combine sex with ridiculous emotions and you account for a majority of the crimes Lestrade investigates on a daily basis. Why allow your bodies to rule your heads? There are times when I truly despair for humanity. "

For a brief moment John fought the urge to laugh but realised quickly it would not be appreciated. Taking a deep breath, and saying a quick prayer for patience, he looked back at Sherlock.

"Okay, you know that I've never pried in all the time we've known one another."

Sherlock scoffed.

"I've asked you questions yes, but I have never pushed you for answers when you didn't want to share them, because I respect your privacy. Don't give me that look. I respect your private life a hell of a lot more than you respect mine and you know it."

"Using your laptop when it's important –"

"Closer to your lazy arse you mean," John interjected.

"-is different than asking intrusive questions about another person's life. Information they would have shared, if they wanted you to know it in the first place."

"Look, don't think for one minute I am going to let you play the wounded soul. And if you're expecting me to storm out of here in a snit while you throw yourself down on the sofa and congratulate your arrogant self on a narrow escape, think again."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"You know I would never discuss with anyone what we talk about today and I'd never belittle you either. So what do you have to lose?"

"I fail to see how your little brain has come to the conclusion that I even want to have such a conversation. Especially with you," Sherlock bit out scathingly.

Seeing the comments for the defensive technique they were, John ignored them.

"All I'm going to ask is that you come over here and sit in your seat. Then we will ask each other questions and, trusting one another to answer the questions asked of us truthfully, also know there will be no repercussions when we do… I know your thirst for knowledge. You have questions, no don't deny it! I know you. I have a few questions of my own and I think it would be good for us to just take care of it."

"Sometimes you can be so –"

"Yes, before you let me know how ridiculously emotional you think I am, let me just tell you one more thing. I am going to go take a walk. I'll be back in about a half an hour. You have two choices. You can be here when I get back, so we can have a chat, or I can find you've left for a case that has miraculously come up. It's completely up to you."

Seeing the scowl on Sherlock's face, but noting his silence, John got up quickly from his chair and went for his coat. Despite the unusually warm March they were enjoying it wouldn't be good to catch a chill, he reasoned. And returning before the half hour was over was not an option.

"I'll be back!" he called out as the door slammed behind him.

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><p><strong>Author's Note 65/2013: This piece, despite appearances, has not been abandoned. It took me quite a while to really know who John and Sherlock were after I wrote this chapter and how they would behave in the future. I've pretty much got a handle on it now. No promises that an update will be in a few days or even a few weeks but I have not given up or forgotten.**


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